


Cold and Thin (As a Razor)

by kylocatastrophe



Series: 33 Days of Guro (Kylux) [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: 33 Day Guro Challenge, Amputation, Amputation Kink, Anatomy lesson, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Blood, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gore, Guro, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Miniseries, Ownership, srsly ur gonna learn a thing about muscles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 13:40:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7465569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylocatastrophe/pseuds/kylocatastrophe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux built Kylo a custom cybernetic prosthetic after making the executive decision to remove his damaged arm. That was three years ago. Hux has made no demands since, but their relationship has become something dark and filthy that Kylo gets lost in. Eventually, Hux does demand for more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold and Thin (As a Razor)

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting anything out here, please heed the tags. Unbeta'd. I know the POV is fluid and utterly what the fuck. Please be kind/constructive, and enjoy the 33 Days of Guro.

Three years ago, Kylo lost his arm part way down his bicep. That had been Hux’s idea really. He had taken great pride in designing the new limb, and personally attached it. Even now, Kylo wasn’t used to it. There was a twitch in it, fingers that felt like his, but were just different enough that it was unsettling. He had gotten used to the static licking at what remained of his flesh. Hux was always working little updates into it. Still, Kylo didn’t understand why Hux spent so much time on him. He tried not to think about it.

His attention flicked back to Hux, just barely surprised to see him looking at him as if he were something savory and delicious. When Hux stared, the man seemed to just look through someone. Kylo kept his face neutral, lips pressed together before he lifted his lip to snarl. Hux cut him off by standing abruptly. His edges blended into the dark walls of the room, breaking up the vicious figure he cut in the bespoke uniform.

Hux sat himself on Kylo’s lap, settling his bony ass on his thighs. “Ren.” Kylo watched him lick his lips, pink tongue on pink flesh. Hux removed Kylo’s helmet, the little chamber hissing as it depressurized, and Kylo breathed nonmetallic recycled air. The helmet was unceremoniously dropped on the floor, and the sound reverberated in his bones, made his right arm sing. Hux was also stroking the cybernetic prosthesis through his clothes.

He knew, even without searching, exactly where to find the seam between Kylo’s flesh and the limb. Hux pressed his fingers in, circled his hand around as much of his bicep as he could. Worked him up with kisses, squeezing fingers and teasing brushes of his lips, and Ren fell for it. Kylo made a soft noise and gave in, opening his mouth to chase after Hux’s. 

Kylo let himself dip into the chasm Hux was leading him into, fuzzy up until he felt Hux’s bare fingers against his false arm. He knew Hux had an unhealthy fascination with it. Touched it whenever he had the chance, and even preferred Kylo use the cold, metal fingers.

“Ren, I want another.”

He hadn’t expected Hux to ask this of him, especially when he was gasping softly. Kylo was dumbstruck into silence.

“Another limb. Your leg,” Hux said, breathy against Kylo’s neck. It made him shiver, and then tense as Hux traced a line over his right thigh.

“From here, and you’ll be perfect.”

Kylo found himself nodding, acquiescing too easily. He couldn’t help it. He’d probably destroy his own Master if Hux simply asked.

Hux offered him a beautiful, brilliant smile, “Good. Very good.” And Kylo was struck by how rarely he saw that kind of bright, manic glee in his eyes. Kylo wanted to see more of it, and see that look trained on him, with those even rarer praises. He would be a conservator for them if Hux let him.

Kylo’s mouth felt dry, like his tongue wasn’t working. He wet his lips, “When-”

“Now. Go, lie down. Behave.” That was the last carefully placed nail, and like a hex, Kylo folded. Hux gave him one last kiss, and slid away, a cold breeze that stole Kylo’s breath. He got up, and obeyed, stripping his clothes while a mixture of dread and excitement settled heavy in his gut.

It weighed him down, pinned him to the table. Hux didn’t ask him a second time, just dragged his fingertips over Kylo’s naked thigh. The electric scalpel was cold, but the touch was brief. Hux took his time setting up his tools. Each lined up perfectly, even spaces between them. The scalpel and ion bone laser, whose taller profile was offset by the carefully folded gauze. Above that, bacta solution and pads, and a series of clamps.

A glove snap had Kylo back and focused. He inhaled sharply, toes curling. Hux was by no means a professional. He was pretty sure the last time he’d so much as thought about something like field medicine was during his academy days, but this was premeditated. He had everything he needed, outside of their usual toys of scalpel blades and surgical knives. Kylo could smell the sterile solution that the bio-electric connectors were kept in. Hux had wanted this for a long time. The research had to have been thorough; not that Hux was capable of anything less.

Hux tsked, and spoke when he was sure Kylo was paying attention to him, and not the red line bitten into his leg. “You fell asleep last time,” He said it as if they had been watching a holovid, “I want you to stay awake this time. You’ll do that for me.” 

When a nod wasn’t enough, Kylo forced a rough and weak “Yes,” from his dry mouth. The horrible, gentle smile that Hux gave him was worth it. 

The first cut did not hurt. Nor did the second. Hux pressed deep and peeled back the dermis, dabbing up the blood so he could expose more muscle and lament the gloves between his fingers and the flesh. Rather than the typical angled cuts, Hux worked as if he were dissecting a cadaver. Kylo gripped the table, and tried not to bite his tongue while Hux probed into a new lesion in the main, thick, rectus femoris. Whimpers still bubbled up his throat, squeezing between his pressed lips. 

Hux worked through sinew and muscle until he had liberated Kylo’s leg. Most of the bleeding had been stemmed by the electric scalpel, and Hux admired the cauterized flesh with his slippery fingertips. Kylo was panting, throat raw from pained screams that Hux had shushed him for. He was only partway through having removed and peeled back most of the lower portion of Kylo’s femoris, the thinner sartorius that crossed over and cut into his knee, as well as the pink-white gristly ribbon of the vastus lateralis (he had to anchor it down, fighting the elasticity of the tendon). His favorite was the twitching mass of the inner vastus medialis. Most of it had to be removed, sitting too low on Kylo’s thigh to even stay. 

Kylo had no control over how badly what remained of his leg tensed, quivered or otherwise spasmed. Hux ended up removing a touch too much of the biceps femoris from the outer layer of muscles, which earned him a put-upon sigh. Eventually, though, Kylo had a sheared end of muscle, tapering toward an extension of his femur, only revealed because Hux cut and peeled and clamped back the useless, still twitching muscles, like fillets caked in fat, slick connective tissue and ribbons of incrementally parted dermis and subcutaneous fat.

Hux made a soft grunt of effort, peeling the stubborn flesh out of his way. The ion cutter was heavy, and his hand was just barely jittering, nerves jumping with excitement and adrenaline. Kylo was going to be perfect. He leveled the emitter, taking care while splitting the femur with a precise and steadier hand. Lingering a moment, Hux pressed his thumb against the spongy soft and bloody marrow, sucking in a shaky breath.

“Can you feel that?” Hux asked, voice as thin and sharp as the blade of his scalpel. Kylo’s shoulders jerked, and he already tasted blood in his mouth from where his cheek had caught between his teeth. Swallowing through pain, he was eventually able to answer with a weak , delirious nod. The limp strings of nerves and staunched blood vessels were tidied up and tucked out of the way, packaged cleanly behind flaps of skin that he only bothered to cover with bacta patches and gauze.

He peeled off the gloves and patted Kylo’s hip. Kylo was full on shaking, bordering on hyperventilating and barely coherent. “That’s it, Kylo,” Hux purred, “Almost perfect…” His hand was deceptively gentle as he rubbed the new stump.

As much as he loved to see Kylo’s miserable face, he administered a painkiller directly, and massaged the living remains of his leg. Hux snapped his fingers, “Don’t look at that. Look at me. I have a new one for you.” He didn’t want Kylo staring vacantly at the abandoned half of his leg. 

“You did so well, Kylo,” he murmured, moving so far as to touch his face, and thumb over a damp cheek. “Almost perfect,” Hux said again, watching the fuzzy smile curve his lips and brighten his face. Even if he hadn’t the time to get rid of it yet, he was going to take care of his broken boy who didn’t know what was best for him first.

Kylo was - they were both - still aroused, Kylo’s hip still pressing up against Hux’s hand if he kneaded him with his fingers. “Look at you,” Hux hissed, and Kylo knew better than to cover the shame heating up his face.

**Author's Note:**

> and then they bang--


End file.
